


Change Into A Person I Don't Wanna Be

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: Pray For The Wicked [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Castiel is Not Amused (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Godstiel - Freeform, Knight of Hell Dean Winchester, Leviathans are gross, M/M, Political Marriage, Post-Season/Series 06 Finale, Sam Winchester Is In Love With Castiel, Sam Winchester is So Done, Sastiel Reverse Bang 2019 (Supernatural), Shipper Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-25 21:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: Castiel swallowed the souls of Purgatory and killed Raphael before declaring himself God. When he went looking for Sam, whom he had promised to heal once he had defeated Raphael, he found him and Dean both missing and Bobby in a drunken stupor. And then one of Castiel's lieutenants brought him the news: Sam Winchester had claimed the Throne of Hell.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Pray For The Wicked [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542121
Comments: 19
Kudos: 84
Collections: Sastiel Reverse Bang 2019





	Change Into A Person I Don't Wanna Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kandai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kandai/gifts).

**H**ELL WAS UNPLEASANT by its very nature, being a place of torment where the wicked were punished for their sins. At least, that was how it was meant to be once, perhaps, long ago. Lilith had changed the rules, or perhaps Alistair had, so that souls delivered into Hell no longer suffered the torments to earn redemption from their sins but were stripped of what goodness remained in them, becoming demons themselves. It was the state of affairs that had caused Dean Winchester to become the Righteous Man of prophecy to break the First Seal, his resolve weakened after forty years of torture but still a long way off from his soul turning pure black by the time he was coerced into shedding innocent blood in Hell.

The last time he had ventured into Hell, he had crept in like a thief, intent on finding and stealing Sam away from his older brothers in their Cage with none the wiser. This time, he strode boldly into Hell as he had the first time, full of righteous power and warrior intent. Unlike the first time he had come to Hell, however, demons scattered before him, desperate to get out of his way or avoid his notice altogether. The urge to smite them anyway was strong, but Castiel was here with a purpose and would not be deterred from that goal by even so worthy a cause as exterminating these vermin.

Castiel felt his jaw clenching and lengthened his stride. Even with his new power, even brought up to the level of his Father, he could feel this place suffocating, rejecting him and his authority, and it made something black and angry inside him twist with displeasure, made his forward march more purposeful. There was not a single place in Creation that should reject _ him _ \- he was essentially _ God! _ \- but the firmament and the very air of Hell mocked him with its whispered rejection. God he may be, but there was only one King in Hell, and Hell itself was not shy about letting him know that King was not Castiel.

The armored demon guards outside the massive doors of Hell's throne room sneered at him as he approached, but made no move to hinder his progress. The butts of their metal polearms struck the shiny black floor with a ringing crash that echoed unnaturally like a gong in the stone halls as the doors swung open to admit Castiel into the cavernous room. The new God fought a sneer, for there was no doubt that this pretentious posturing would be intimidating to any being originally of human stock, and strode forward with purposeful intent, head held high. He was no cowering supplicant to this artificial Realm's King, and he would make that known!

And make it known he did, the words lashing out from his lips before he had even reached the base of the throne to strike at the black-clad figure seated on it with all his anger and betrayal and fury. **"What do you think you are doing here, Samuel?"**

"I could ask you the same question, _ Castiel _," Sam Winchester said, his words somehow more commanding despite the lack of Power behind them, as if he were a parent speaking calmly to an unruly child. "You broke Death's Wall in my head and scattered the pieces of my soul and sanity to the point I had to fight to put myself back together again, and you're surprised by the consequences?"

"You were guaranteed Salvation," Castiel seethed, reining in his temper as best he could to try and make the logical arguments the boy before him had always respected in the past. "I would have fixed your Wall and healed the damage to your soul with my new power had you not thrown that Salvation away and damned yourself with this foolishness!"

"Is it really foolishness to take up the role long since assigned to you?" Sam asked, raising one eyebrow. Castiel thought he could see lines of strain around the human's eyes, but the voice was even. "They called me the Boy King here long before I even knew that a Prince of Hell had fed me his blood."

"Lies spoken by demons," Castiel countered. "Fed to them by Azazel to make the ignorant masses more willing to bow to a _ human hunter _ once Lucifer took you as his Vessel. This was never intended for you, or your soul would never have come to Heaven when you died in Cold Oak."

"Lucifer himself was of Heaven before he was Cast Down," Sam answered, the lines deepening at his eyes. "And regardless of what Salvation may have been granted to _ the boy with the demon blood _\--" Castiel fought a flinch at hearing his own words flung back at him. "--it seems the Throne of Hell feels otherwise about my place upon it."

"It's a throne," Castiel couldn't help but protest, frowning. "It has no say about who sits upon it!"

"You think not?" Sam's eyebrow was up again, and he leaned forward as if preparing to rise. "You think if I get up and step aside, that you could sit here instead?"

Castiel hesitated. Pride and that dark and hungry twisting inside him demanded that he say yes, of course he could take the throne of Hell, but something stilled the words in his vessel's throat. Here, in the throne room itself, there were none of the pressures of rejection he had felt during his descent, but some part of him knew, as surely as he knew his own Name, that if he tried to take the Throne of Hell the way he had claimed the Throne of Heaven, he would be rejected yet again.

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, or perhaps his silence was answer enough, because Sam nodded and settled back into the throne's unyielding embrace. Castiel fancied there might have been a touch of disappointment in the former human's eyes. "The Throne of Hell chooses who may sit upon it, just as surely as the Throne of Heaven does," he said, his voice tired. "That was one of the first pieces of Knowledge it bestowed. Another is that Hell must have a Ruler, just as Heaven does, to provide Balance."

"That Ruler doesn't have to be _ you! _" Castiel insisted, feeling again that flare of anger. "After so many years of working to overcome Azazel's taint in your blood, how could you just give in? How could you betray Dean like that?"

"Don't bring me into this," a third voice spoke up from the shadows. Castiel jerked, his head whipping around to the side to stare at the man standing mostly hidden by the darkness. Thinner, green eyes shadowed and darkened with barely leashed anger, bare arms crossed over his black-clad chest showing the red Mark standing out vividly on his pale and freckled skin, but still unquestionably Dean. "I told Sammy I'd let him handle you himself - he's my King, after all - but if you wanna drag me into it with talk of betrayal, I've got a few words on the subject to say to _ you _."

"Dean," Sam said, the name carrying both affection and warning. Aghast, Castiel watched as Dean looked to Sam and bowed his head before moving to draw back into the shadows again.

"How could you?" he burst out, looking from Dean to Sam in horror and twisting, blackened fury. "I lifted you out of Perdition, _ both _ of you, and this is how you choose to repay me?"

"Free will's a bitch, ain't it?" Dean snorted, but it was Sam's suddenly cold expression that arrested Castiel's attention. He had seen the younger Winchester angry, even furious, but never directed at _ him _, and it clawed at the space in his chest where the twisting darkness could not quite reach.

"An act of goodness that expects repayment is not goodness, Castiel," Sam intoned, the words echoing off the stone despite the way he had not raised his voice at all. "It's manipulation. Of all your brethren, I thought you at least best understood that, but fine. You want to talk reparation? You broke my head and forced me onto a throne I did not want in order to redress a Balance you were flaunting in your wanton destruction. You can begin to repay _ me _ by returning the souls of Hell lent to you by my predecessor for your civil war."

"Crowley," Castiel said, part desperation and part twisting dark hunger. "He held the Throne of Hell before you, he can take it back--"

"Hard to do that when he's dead," Dean drawled from the shadows, showing no sign of fear or remorse for interrupting Castiel, and Castiel felt the rage surge at this show of insolence. "He didn't much like being kicked off the Throne by Sammy, so he tried to get me to help him get it back. Dick underestimated how far I'm willing to go for my brother and it cost him."

"He can hardly be blamed for making the same mistake as the rest of Heaven and Hell, assuming you'd put Dad's orders before me just like Michael," Sam murmured, glancing at Dean with a soft, quiet sort of awe that told Castiel the younger Winchester could hardly believe it either.

"Yeah, well, big difference there," Dean huffed, rolling his eyes. "You ain't Lucifer, and even if you were, you don't save your brother by killing him! Freaking dumbass..."

"Michael or Cain?"

"Both!"

It was like Castiel was no longer even in the room, for all the attention Sam and Dean were paying him, bantering and teasing and so affectionate... It felt like a glimpse back in time, to when the brothers had been closest, before the fight with their father and the ultimatum chasing Sam to Stanford away from his family, before Azazel's machinations to get Sam back on the road, before the Cauldron and Dean's deal, before the Apocalypse... Before Castiel had even been a part of their lives as far as they had known.

_ They're happy, _ a part of Castiel whispered softly. _ They're together and they're happy, and that's all I ever really wanted for Sam...for _ ** _them_ ** _ . _

_ They're ignoring you, _ hissed that darker part angrily. _ You, who gave them so much of yourself, who turned your back on your brethren for them, and they dare to ignore your presence! You are God now, and they treat you like a ghost! _

_ I hurt them, _ the soft part whispered back, a thrum of shame and guilt twinging in his Grace. _ I hurt Sam, broke his Wall, even though I call him my friend. _

_ But did he ever think of you that way? _ that insidious darkness spat at him. _ You heard him say that he would die for you, and yet the moment you turn your back he throws your promised Salvation in your face. _

"So it's come to this, then?" Castiel said aloud, drawing the attention of both Winchesters once more. "You would rather damn yourselves to Hell and never see Heaven again than accept my Salvation."

"Castiel... Cas," Sam stood from the throne and stepped down from the dais. Castiel lifted his chin, refusing to back down or be cowed by the human's greater height or the roll of power that followed him from the throne, but Sam's expression wasn't aggressive or cajoling. Instead he looked... tired. "This doesn't have to be a bad thing. With you ruling Heaven and me ruling Hell, we can maintain the Balance between our Realms, keep the Earth safe from those who would have selfishly destroyed it... like Raphael. Like Azazel." Now Sam's expression changed, turning cautiously hopeful as he looked Castiel in the eyes. "There can be peace."

_ Peace! _ Castiel felt his chest constrict sharply, deeply longing even as that darkness recoiled. It was beautiful... it was _ terrible _... and it was impossible.

"Do you believe me stupid, Samuel?" he said, low voiced, gesturing around them when Sam flinched back. "This is _ Hell _ . There will be no _ peace _ here, not for you...not for Dean." Not so long as Sam held the throne of Hell and his only solid anchor, his soulmate, was bound to him here in Hell as well. There would be no saving Sam now... "Unless...."

"Unless?" Sam prompted him, eyes narrowing the way they sometimes did when he was investigating some puzzle for a hunt, a mix of consideration and suspicion that sent a flare of anger through that darkness. Castiel shoved the anger down the best he could, because if Sam was so far gone as to take the throne of Hell then even offering this would be a long shot, but on the other hand, Sam was still talking to him rather than attack.

There was only one way to find out. "Marry me."

"Excuse me?!"

The words echoed in the throne room, the tone incredulous. It was only when Dean stalked out of the shadows to stand firmly at Sam's side that Castiel realized they had been spoken with two voices rather than one. "What the literal hell do you think you're playing at, Cas?" Dean snarled, glaring at the ascended angel.

"Dean," Sam started even as Castiel clenched his hands to resist the urge to _ smite _ the arrogant little worm who _ dared _address him so disrespectfully.

"Sammy, come on!" Dean protested. "He avoids us for two years - well, six months in your case - and lies to us the whole time, breaks your head, takes off to crack open Purgatory and, from what Crowley told me, exploded Raphael and before vanishing, and then he shows up here acting like _ we _ betrayed _ him _ and then does an about-face and _ tells _ you to marry him?"

"He probably didn't mean it that way," Sam sighed, which gave Castiel pause in the building ire. What way did he supposedly not mean it?

"I'm just saying, new God or not, you still deserve the courtesy of being _ asked _, even if you weren't king here!" Dean huffed, folding his arms.

_ You are God, _ the darkness prodded. _ You command, not plead. _

_ Sam is my friend, _ the soft light whispered. _ And too many creatures, celestial and infernal, have overridden his will and wishes, including me. _

_ Then what's once more to-- _

** _No!_ ** Castiel clenched his jaw against the flinch as he felt that denial reverberate through his vessel's very atoms. _ No more. Sam will be wooed and wed to me, not enslaved. _

_ But neither will you, _ the darkness whispered. _ Woo him if you must cajole rather than command, but do not beg. You are _ ** _God_ ** _ . You kneel to _ ** _no one_ ** _ . _

_ Are not human proposals enacted upon bended knee? _ the light whispered back.

"I am not human," Castiel huffed in irritation at both the light and the dark, feeling a rush of embarrassment follow when both Sam and Dean turned to look at him. "It would be disingenuous of me to follow human traditions, and angels have few such traditions for taking mates, most of which are impossible for humans to engage in safely. A treaty marriage between the ruler of Heaven and the ruler of Hell is, at least, not unheard of, if not previously enacted."

"Is that what you are proposing, then?" Sam asked, his tone curiously neutral. "A marriage to seal and solidify a peace treaty between our realms?"

"Fuck that!" Dean snorted, sending a surge of rage through Castiel that left him nearly dizzy from holding back the urge to smite the elder Winchester.

"Dean--"

"_ Sam _ ," Dean gripped Sam's shoulder, staring up into his brother's eyes. "I get it, okay? But this is about more than just a treaty and you know it, so stow the self-sacrificing shit and think about what you _ want _."

"I _ am _, Dean," Sam insisted, and the intensity of the pain and longing in his voice nearly threw Castiel to hear it. "And what I want was always impossible."

_ What he wants...? _ Castiel seethed with curiosity, wishing that Sam and Dean would speak plainly about whatever it was they both seemed to know that once again left him in the dark.

"So, what, you're just willing to _ settle _ ?" Dean scoffed. "For a _ treaty _?"

"It's not ideal, but I wouldn't call it settling," Sam answered, glancing over at Castiel furtively and then away again, the faintest flush of heat suffusing his cheeks. "However, every treaty involves negotiations of terms before being ratified."

_ He dares attempt to impose conditions on our generosity?! _ the darkness snarled, only for the light to outright scoff in return.

_ If the ruler of Hell were anyone but Sam, it would be the gravest folly to even suggest such a union without set terms and conditions to protect Heaven from the demons' machinations, _ came the logical rebuttal. _ And after everything I did to him over the course of my war, I can hardly blame him for being wary enough of my intentions to insist on defining terms. _

_ He would reduce you to merely the ruler of Heaven, when as God you are the ruler of _ ** _All_ ** _ , _ the darkness grumbled. Castiel fought a flinch at the thought that felt too far even for his new power and lifted his chin, meeting Sam's eyes as steadily as he could manage.

"Name your terms, Samuel, King of Hell," he intoned, ignoring Dean's hiss as he kept his focus on Sam, "and I will state mine."

Sam smiled.


End file.
